


Read to Me

by ILoveABaddie



Series: The Years In Between [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Comfort Reading, Domestic Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveABaddie/pseuds/ILoveABaddie
Summary: This is the first in a series of One Shots that I am writing to fill in the 13 year gap in my story The Soundtrack of Us. Little snippets into Simon and Baz's life together.This particular story is also a birthday gift to my dear friend.





	Read to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somesecretstoshare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somesecretstoshare/gifts).



A month ago I was honeymooning in Copenhagen with my gorgeous husband eating the best Danish of my life in front of a roaring fire at the cosiest cafe on the planet; today I am stuck in a meeting that was called ten minutes before I was planning to leave, watching the clouds slowly roll in just realizing that I left my umbrella in the stand at our flat. Generally I really do like my job, but this week has been properly hellish. We rolled out our latest app two weeks ago and it is so full of glitches that we have been in meetings much the same as this day in and day out in an attempt to sort out the PR nightmare that has descended upon us.

I stopped paying attention 15 minutes ago and all I can think of now is whether Baz is home yet and what he is making for dinner tonight. It’s actually shocking how domestic he has become; he cooks the vast majority of our meals and is very good at it. Really, I should stop being surprised when he masters everything he attempts. Lately he’s been on an Asian kick and the Pad Thai he made last night was exceptional. I wish that my job offered the same flexibility as Baz’. He works for a financial analyst firm and as much as they try to convince him to take on more work, he flatly refuses. If he weren’t so damn good at the job I don’t think they’d tolerate it but it seems they’ll do anything to keep him, even letting him work the hours he chooses. He says that our marriage is his top priority and he won’t spend the first year stuck at the office. A wave of guilt that I am still here at nearly 5:30 washes over me as I stare blankly at the power point demonstrating the bug fix roll out plan.

Jeff, who has been leading the meeting, finally notices that none of us are offering our best effort this late in the day on a Friday and tells us to head home. As I pop by my desk to grab my laptop and bag I see fat drops of rain starting to hit the windows and groan at the fact that I wasn’t able to beat the weather. On the way through the lobby I stop to say bye to Krista at the Info Desk, I don’t know that I’d survive the office politics at this place if it weren’t for her. We met on my second day here; she always listens to me bitch about the wankers I have to deal with on the daily and is masterful at taking my side and cursing the name of those who irritate me.

“Simon, what are you still doing here?” she asks as I approach pulling my jacket on.

“Don’t even get me started, I’m late enough getting home and if I start on about this I’ll never stop,” I reply and a knowing look crosses her face.

“Fucking Jeff again with the last minute meetings?” she asks.

“Fuck! He’s the actual worst.” I muse and she smiles.

“I’ll bet Baz has dinner and wine waiting for you at home, get the hell out of here before someone sees you and asks you a question.” She winks at me and I lean over the desk pecking her on the top of the head.

“Have a great weekend, Krista. I want to hear all about your show next week when things settle down up there.” Krista stage manages local theatre in her free time and she is really excited about the show she’s working on now. The stories she has about her escapades always help to keep my mind off the stress of the office.

I slip out the door and run to the tube station, it is pouring rain now and I’ve no hope of making it home dry. The tube is jam packed and the hordes of wet people make it smell like the back room at a dog grooming salon. I can’t wait to be out of here.

The warm aroma of spices wraps around me as I step through the door of our flat, I can hear music playing in the kitchen the way it always does while Baz is cooking. I slip off my shoes and jacket and leave them to dry in the foyer then shuffle into the kitchen to investigate the delicious smell. Baz is facing the stove so his back is to me and I’m gifted with a minute to watch him without him knowing. He’s wearing sweats low on his hipbones and a t-shirt that fits snug across his shoulders, his dark hair hanging loose around his face. He is swaying slightly to the music and humming to himself in his deep, rich voice. When he bends over the pan to taste the sauce he’s been stirring the view is outstanding and I can’t hold back any longer. I slide up to him and wrap my arms around his narrow waist.

“Hello Love, welcome home,” he purrs.

I bury my face in his neck and he almost jumps out of his skin from the cold press of my nose and wet hair. He quickly pulls away and spins around to scold me.

“Crowley, Simon you’re soaked to the bone! Did you forget your umbrella again?” he scolds. “We do live in London dear; it really isn’t prudent to leave home without one.”

“Yes, thank you darling, I see that now.” I dip my finger into the pan and lick off the sauce, the sweet and spicy flavour bursting on my tongue.

“Go get changed and dried off, this is just about ready.”

“Ok,” I kiss him on the cheek and am gratified by the slight blush that creeps up; indicating that he fed recently.

I strip off my damp clothes, pulling on warm dry pyjama bottoms and a hoodie then run a towel over my hair quickly. When I head back out to the kitchen Baz is just setting plates on the small table in the corner. Even though we have a formal dining room, we only ever eat in there when we have company. I grab the wine and glasses off the island and join him.

“How was work?” he asks and I groan.

“Ugh, it was shitty.”

“What happened? Was there a new issue with the app?” he’s watching me closely to gauge my mood.

“No, same old problems, we just need to get past this glitch issue and through the roll out of the fixes and things will calm down. Everyone at the office is tense and stressed and it makes it a less than desirable place to be.” I top up my wine and take a bite of noodles; as usual Baz’s cooking is a welcome reprieve from my crap day. Even just talking to him about it is loosening the ball of stress that has been living in my chest since this morning.

“You know Simon, if you aren’t happy there you can look for something else. Your job should be something that brings you a sense of pride and satisfaction, not anxiety and headaches.”

“I know, and thank you Baz for being so supportive, it will get better. I really do enjoy my work, this is just a rough time and our team has to get through it, things should start levelling off next week after the release.” I reach over and grab his hand to reassure him that I’m being honest.

“Well good, I don’t like seeing you run ragged. I need you in top form when you get home so you can satisfy my every whim.” He smirks at me and I am relieved that he believes me enough to joke about it.

After dinner I clear the table and cast a “ ** _clean as a whistle_** ” in the kitchen. The pots and pans and all the dishes whisk into their rightful places waiting for Baz’s culinary genius to strike again. I find Baz in the living room snuggled under a blanket on the sofa. He’s started a fire in the grate and the rest of the wine from dinner is on the table next to where his feet are stretched out. He taps the spot next to him in invitation and I gladly take it, sprawling across the rest of the space with my head in his lap. Once I’m settled he picks up a book from the side table and runs his long elegant finger through the pages.

“Now, where were we?” he hums.

While we were travelling we stayed in a little cottage in Iceland on the outskirts of Reykjavik. It had a well stocked book case and one night when we decided to stay in Baz picked up a book and I laid down next to him much the same as I am right now. I asked him to read to me and at first he thought it a bit strange, but he gave in and ended up reading to me for hours. It is so relaxing to cuddle up and let his warm voice wash over me while I get lost in whatever tale he is willing to tell. After that it became somewhat of a routine for us and when Baz can tell that I’ve had a bad day he draws me in and reads until I forget my worries.

“We stopped right after he gets that map from the twins,” I suggest.

“Oh yes, here it is.” He finds the page where we left off and I settle in to listen.

He reads and I lay there, he knows exactly where to place inflection to enhance the story and I find myself wondering if he could have a career reading books on tape. All of the characters have a slightly different voice, but not in a silly way, just enough that I know who is speaking before he says so. He breathes personality into the characters as if he had written them himself. I’ve always known that Baz values the written word deeply and when he reads he is sharing that passion with me. It is intimate in a different way than being lovers and it makes me feel closer to him.

Baz reads a passage in the story and I can’t help but scoff.

“What?” he asks.

“Got what was coming to him, that’s all,” I say. “What is that guy’s problem?”

“Who, Malfoy? I’m not sure what he did that is so wrong. He’s just trying to prove that Harry is constantly breaking the rules to suit his desire to be the hero. Not sure that constitutes a punch in the face.” Baz shoots back.

“That’s nuts, Baz. Malfoy is a total arse. He’s a pretentious rich boy and he can’t stand that people like Harry better than him.” I laugh and Baz glares at me.

“Whatever Snow,” he snaps the book shut and puts it down.

“That’s it? I didn’t mean to upset you. Please keep reading,” I offer my sweetest puppy dog face.

“Don’t even,” he says, “it’s late, and we should get to bed.”

“Are you mad at me for being mean to Malfoy?”

He glares at me in an attempt to be an intimidating vampire but a smile creeps up on him and he can’t keep a straight face. He stands abruptly and heads to the bedroom so that I won’t see him grinning about the stupidity of the argument. I turn off all the lights and follow him, we brush our teeth and get ready for bed in silence. Once I settle in, Baz curls up against my side with his head on my shoulder.

“If we went to Hogwarts which house do you think you’d be in?” he asks.

“I am so clearly Gryffindor, isn’t that obvious?”

“Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you? Always the one running off to save the school, such a Potter you are.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he teases me.

“What’s wrong with that?” I retort and pinch him in the side which earns me a smack on the chest.

“Well, I am obviously Slytherin which is clearly the best house. Cunning and ambition, I’ll take that any day.”

“Baz, you are the biggest softie I know, you are a Hufflepuff to the core,” another smack to the chest.

“Yes, but I am only a softie with you, and Slytherins are fiercely protective of their own. Don’t question me on this just go to sleep.” He cuddles in closer and waves his hand extinguishing the bedside lamp.

“I wonder how long it takes Harry and Draco to realise they love each other,” I whisper.

“I figured it out a lot sooner than you did, so Malfoy probably already knows.”

“You’re adorable, my little Hufflepuff.”  I lean down to kiss him goodnight and he begrudgingly complies.

“I will withhold sex and reading if you ever call me a Hufflepuff again.” He threatens.

“I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
